Shorts
by Coffee-Rules
Summary: Some fun shorts in first person POV of my characters.


**Win or Die**

It's on a very rare occasion that you get these nice, warm, quiet days here on Outset Island. I know I enjoy them. Now a days there are always places to go, people to save, bad guys to kill, accidents to laugh at, and rain to spoil your picnic. Of course, when these happy times do arrive, there's always a nut to hover over you as you try to enjoy it; although, with those nuts come... some fun.

It was a normal August morning; Zeean had taken a few of the guys out, and Tetra was still out sailing like she always does. I worked my magic; I convinced everyone else to go outside and enjoy themselves. Me? I prefer the lazy indoors.

There was only one problem; Yvon decided to stick around.

You may think that it's impossible for any teenager to fit into the 'annoying, egotistical jerk' category, but it's not; I've found one for you.

People say that me and Yvon are alot in common. Some people actually open their huge mouths and say we're related. Although, after thinking about it, I realize that could be true, if we were twins that is (our birthdays are only two weeks apart anyways!). But despite this, he still manages to get on my nerves and cause grief everywhere he goes.

And I'm stuck, alone, in a mansion, with him.

I decided to claim the main living room for myself and start listening to my iPod there. Yvon was in the dining room, which is just next door. I didn't notice when he first walked in. He krept slowly behind the chair, and then around to the couch. I suppose he sat on the stairs for a few minutes, waiting for the opportunity.

Yvon is more of the tricky, wordy type, while I'm the smooth, calm type. Nonetheless, Yvon has done enough over the past eight months or so to crash me down to the point of blowing up. My only methods of self-defence when he bugs me is my trap or kill method.

Trap describes my abilities of bribery, verbal descrimination, psychological warfare and threats to tell Zeean of various accidents he's caused in the house. However, I've definately stretched these methods too far and too much; not to mention he'll never fall for any of them again.

Kill describes my abilities to fight. However, against Yvon my chances of victory are slim to none. I could, however, give myself an advantage, but the old 'You wouldn't strike a girl!' and 'You hit, I tell!' seem too kiddish for my tastes (and probably his), so I generally don't use this method.

My trap and kill method was useless.

Yvon waited until I started listening to some calmer tunes to strike. I placed my hands over the cushions of the couch, and yawned from the quiet love music. Then, he swiped the iPod from my hand and ran full speed up the stairs.

Before I even knew it was gone, he was already up the stairs. I realized he had taken the helpless mp3 player right as my favorite song was arriving. My earphones were still in my ears when I jumped over the back of the couch and followed him up.

I knew that he had gone into one of the bathrooms, but I didn't know which one. It was either the bathroom us teenagers used, or the master bathroom in Zeean's bedroom that connected all the guest rooms. I had to stop at the top of the stairs in order to choose, and I heard a door open, and I knew from the specific click that the knob made, that he had run into the second guest room.

I chased after him.

By the time I had gotten to the bathroom door Yvon had already locked it. I remembered how, a couple months ago, Justin and Samus had found a way to pluck the locks open with a small pocket knife, one that can be found in the top drawer of Zeean's vanity. However, then came Gers and Yvon (the troublemakers) who found out that, by spinning the _extremely _light towel cupboard around toward the doors, they were unopenable.

I groaned in dispair and shouted, "Yvon, you freak! Give it back!"

"What're you gonna do?" He retorted. "Tell on me? 'Cause Z's not back for another hour and a half!"

I collapsed on the guest bed. He was right. I was foolish to kick everyone out of the house like I did. I just wanted the whole mansion to myself... but I could've just settled for the bar, or one of the bedrooms, or even the piano room! I signed.

Then I realized I would probably have to rethink my trap or kill method.

"Shit, someone's at the door," I said, hearing the bell. "Once I get back..."

"Oooh, I'm sooo scared!" Yvon said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and got off the bed. I headed down the stairs towards the front door, whil the bell rang three other times.

"I'M COMING!" I screamed. "GOD!"

I opened the door, "Hell-..." I stopped speaking when I saw the two- no, three- no, four figures standing there. I backed away from the door, and they walked inside. I saw then that the figures were holding weapons; daggers, knives and a small gun.

I screamed. No reply.

The figures were completely covered with long, jet black coats, and were wearing cream colored masks that made them look even more ghostly. One of them rasped, "Must. Not. Run."

I screamed again, and this time tried to run up the stairs, but one of the other ones grabbed my ankle and breathed, "Your. Turn. Die. Next."

I kicked at him with my free leg, smashing in his mask, making him let me go. I sprinted to the top, and looked at my ankle. It was swelling, and it was black. I screamed with all my might.

The remaining three figures lifted up the fourth that I had just kicked, and he seemed unharmed. They headed up the stairs, slowly, oh so slowly. I couldn't help but stand and breath hard as they approached.

Finally my mind came to, and I started to back away, but I tripped on my own feet and fell backwards. By then one of the figures had reached me. He grabbed my neck, and lifted me up high. I couldn't breath. I felt the blood in my head begin to thicken, and my legs stiffen. Just as I thought I was a gonner, the figure threw me against the wall behind me.

My head hit it hard, forcing out blood, and it trickled down my neck and onto the beige carpet. I bolted for the master bedroom to my right.

I tripped again, and screamed, reaching for Zeean's bedside phone. I took the recieve off, and dialed 9-1-1.

The figures approached me even slower, and the phone kept ringing. After what seemed like a century, they reached me. I screamed again and again, kicking at them as they grasped my arms and legs. I could see their blackness rubbing onto me; consuming me.

I was able to push back the four with my legs, and that's when the emergency operator answered, "What is your emergency?"

"I'M BEING ATTACKED!" I screamed, barely even into the phone at all.

"Wow, you suck," I heard someone say.

I looked to my right; the door to the master bathroom. I remembered that Yvon was in there.

"Please, calm down," the voice on the phone said. "Repeat your emergency, please."

"HEEELLLP!" I screamed again.

The figures had me again, and they threw me into the back wall, under the window. I choked on my own blood for a moment, and sat back up, dizzy. All I saw was blackness; the phone was still in my hand, beeping from the line being broken.

A robotic voice spoke on the phone, "Your call has been disconnected, and can not be reconnected as dialed. Please hang up and try again."

One last thought went through my mind; Yvon. Would he be safe? Are they after him? I hoped to God that they would leave after finishing me. I was praying that he would be smart enough to leap out the window, onto the beach below.

My vision turned from pitch black, to soaring white. My skin became unfeelable. I couldn't breath any longer. My pulse slowed down, to a steady... stop.

That's when Yvon spoke again.

"Haha, that was pretty good! You know, if you weren't so bad with big words and expressions, you could probably be an actress."

Nothing.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

"Hey... what're you doing? Paff? C... Come on, Paff... Quit it..."

He opened the door. I layed there, with the phone still on beside me, beeping away.

"P-Paff?"

That's when I did it.

I got up, swiped my iPod back from his sweaty palms, and ran into the bathroom. I locked the door, and threw myself to the sink. That last bunch of screams stung my throat, but it was worth it. I sipped some water from the tap, and studied my iPod for damage control.

Yvon stood silent outside, completely blindsighted.

I realized that the ordeal had made me... well, kid of sweaty. I decided to start up Zeean's shower.

Meanwhile Yvon shouted, "You ignoramus! I actually thought you were hurt! God, you're such a bitch, you know that! GOD!"

All I did in response was a friendly chuckle of success. I had attained victory.


End file.
